


A Mistake Anyone Could Make

by alizarin_nyc



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-02
Updated: 2005-11-02
Packaged: 2017-10-12 15:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alizarin_nyc/pseuds/alizarin_nyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the Missing Stories Unficathon by <a href="http://soundingsea.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://soundingsea.livejournal.com/">soundingsea</a></p><p>Prompt: <br/>Up to Two Characters: Doyle, Cordelia<br/>Up to Two Requirements: discovery of an unexpected pregnancy, baby shower with the Sunnydale gang in attendance<br/>One Restriction: Doyle never died.</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Mistake Anyone Could Make

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Settiai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Settiai/gifts).



> For the Missing Stories Unficathon by [](http://soundingsea.livejournal.com/profile)[soundingsea](http://soundingsea.livejournal.com/)
> 
> Prompt:   
> Up to Two Characters: Doyle, Cordelia  
> Up to Two Requirements: discovery of an unexpected pregnancy, baby shower with the Sunnydale gang in attendance  
> One Restriction: Doyle never died.

  
"Oh dear God," Cordy said. She shook the plastic test wand fiercely as if it would change what she was seeing. "Call me fertile Myrtle. This is the second mystic pregnancy in my short, short lifetime. What did I do in a past life to deserve this?"

"Um, are you certain this one is a mystic one?" Doyle was seated on the floor of Cordelia's bathroom, his back against the door, his legs drawn up. "I mean, you do know how these things happen…"

"Yes, dumbass, I do know how these things happen, and unless I also have mystical amnesia, I'm pretty sure this thing is mystical."

"Well, think hard. Maybe…" He gave her a piercing look.

"Don't make me pee on you, Doyle, because I have thought, and I _know_ , okay? I know."

Doyle sighed and rubbed a hand against the back of his head. "Well, there's nothing for it then, but a thorough investigation. I'll check my sources to see if they've heard of any other demon-type spreading its seed through human females."

"Right," Cordy said, all business now that there was business to do, "And I'll get Wesley to help me research our files for any mention of a strange mystical baby that will suddenly appear _in my stomach_!"

"You should also go to a doctor, you know, just to see if it's human."

"Been there, done that. Not a problem. Wes went last time, wanna go this time?"

"Sure," Doyle beamed a bright smile and jumped to his feet. "I'd be proud to pose as the poppa."

***

"Oh dear God," Cordy said, when the doctor assured her she was pregnant in a healthy, human-baby sort of way.

"Don't fret," Doyle said. "We'll get to the bottom of this. Angel will know what to do."

They drove to the Hyperion.

"I don't know what to do," Angel said, thumbing his upper lip and looking troubled. "Are you sure it's not…"

"I'm sure, you moron," Cordy snapped. "I get some, I'm likely to remember it."

"Right," he said. "Um, Wes?"

"I don't know what to do," Wes said, rounding the corner of the office, book in hand, looking puzzled. He thumbed down the volume, pretending to search. No one bought the act. He snapped the book shut and let it fall to his side. "Did the doctor say anything else that might be useful? Did you have a vision before or after you discovered the, uh, the uh, the…"

"Immaculate conception!" Cordy shouted.

"Yes. Well," Wes said.

"I don't think I like your tone, Mister." Cordelia stomped out of the office leaving Angel, Wes and Doyle staring after her.

Then they stared at each other.

"Don't look at me," Angel said. "Vampire; no can do on the conception front."

"Well, it's certainly not me," Wesley said. "I'm seeing someone. Remember? Not that that… but no, it's not me."

"Well I wish it was me, but it's not. You'd have heard about it if I'd gotten so much as a makeout session with Cordy." Doyle looked downcast.

"Don't worry," Angel said, clapping him on the shoulder, "I'm sure it'll happen. Maybe not for another nine months or so, but still."

"Could it be another mystical pregnancy?" Wes asked. "At what point does Cordy reach her maximum number of those?"

"Got me," Angel said. Doyle shrugged. "Well," Angel continued. "We're clearly not getting anywhere with this. Let's just proceed as normal and keep researching and asking around. And also, let's see if Gunn has had any… you know… relations with Cordy."

"I'll let you have that conversation, Angel," Wesley said.

***

"Oh dear God!" Cordy shouted, coming down the stairs, scattering Angel Investigations clients to the four winds. "I just threw up for the thousandth time this week! I have morning sickness to the tenth power! I haven't had a drink in weeks and I cannot fit into my Bebe pants anymore!" Her voice rose to a wail.

"We've got to do something," Angel said. "This is totally distracting."

"Easy for you to say, Mister Sensitive," Doyle said. "Cordy's going through a very tough time and all you can think about is how it's inconveniencing you."

"But it _is_ distracting us from fighting evil," Wesley mused. "Her mood swings were bad enough without the involvement of hormones. This is going to get downright dangerous; for all of us."

"Excuse me, standing right here!" Cordy glared at them from the middle of the room.

"Now, Cordelia," Wesley began.

"Don't you "Cordelia" me, Wesley Wyndham-Price! If you were better at your job, you'd have found out what this is and would GET. IT. OUT!"

"You're just going to have to be patient," Angel snapped. His own patience was a little thin these days.

"Want me to be patient? Give me your credit card so I can go out and buy some new clothes and I'll try my best."

Angel handed over the card without a word. "It's the company card, Cordy," he said, "Please be mindful…"

"Mind this," Cordy said and donned a pair of sunglasses as she stepped out the door.

A few minutes later a round, bald head appeared around the frame of the doorway. "She gone?" Gunn asked.

"Oh that's nice," Wes snapped. "Hide out until she's gone, leaving us to deal with her."

"You crazy, if you think I'm going to sit here and listen to Baby Momma go on and on about losing her bikini bod." Gunn brought his whole body into the office. "Though it's certainly worth a moment of silence to mourn the loss of said hot bod."

"You all disgust me," Doyle said. "I'm trying to help Cordelia, and all you guys can do is sit around expressing your misogyny!"

"Yo, I don't even know what that means," Gunn said. "'Sides, I'm the muscle. When demon baby is born, then I'll have something to do."

"Or when Cordy starts throwing furniture around," Angel said.

"Starts?" Wesley said, rubbing his temple.

"I've got an idea," Doyle said. "Something to cheer her up, something to make her smile, get her mind off things! Something where people give her presents and pay her compliments!"

"Turn her into a mob boss?" Angel asked.

"Throw her a baby shower!" Doyle exclaimed.

"For a drunken Irish bloke, you're sure sentimental," Gunn said.

"It's so ridiculous, it just might work," said Wesley.

***

"Oh dear God," Cordy breathed when she walked in to the Hyperion lobby and saw a dozen people gathered there, with balloons and gifts and _worse_ , bearing fake smiles.

"A baby shower," she said grimly. "Whoever is responsible shall be killed."

"Now, now, Cordy," Doyle said, putting his hands out in a placating gesture, and also to ward off any unwanted beatings. "We wanted to do something nice for you, and all your friends wanted to congratulate you and look," he pointed, "They brought you presents."

"This is not a real baby, and therefore, there is no need for a baby shower," Cordy said, as if she were explaining something to a small child. "Mystical pregnancies do not get parties, they get exorcisms, and hey, that's something we haven't tried yet."

"To all appearances, the pregnancy is normal," Angel said. "So let's just go with it for now and who knows? We may love the little bugger."

"You're officially insane," Cordy said, edging away from Angel.

"Cordy!"

"Buffy! Willow! And Xander. You can all go home now," Cordy said.

Buffy looked miffed, Willow looked sad and Xander looked bored. Anya was staring at her feet and Giles was staring into space.

"Really," Cordy said, "It's nice to see you guys, but this is another mystical pregnancy thing and it's going to go away once we figure out how to make it go away. I did not have sex with anyone. I did not get drunk and pass out somewhere. I did not ever imagine that people would buy cheesy balloons for a party that was for _me_ , but look, here it's happened and I am well and truly mortified."

"Well, very good then," Giles said, backing away toward the gift table. "We'll just take our gifts back, have a little cake and punch and be on our way back to Sunnydale."

People began to mill about the room, inspecting the fine woodwork of the Hyperion and stuffing cake into their faces as fast as they could. Xander slipped a flask out from under his shirt and poured something into the punch, even slipping a sip into the container of blood that stood nearby. He rolled his eyes at Anya. There was no way to enjoy these sorts of things without a little help, even though he knew he was getting to be more like his father every day. Anya didn't smile, didn't return his look. She was probably mad at him for something.

Buffy confronted Cordelia on the circular couch. "You know we did come all this way. You could be a little more grateful. Angel went to a lot of trouble to try to cheer you up; this hasn't been easy for anyone."

"Oh shut up Buffy," Cordelia said. "Angel didn't lift a finger for this. Doyle did it all and Wesley called all of you using his new trick, the telephone tree. He's still a major dork."

"Well, still," Buffy persisted. "We did come…"

"All this way, I know."

"Cordelia?" Anya was standing behind Buffy, twisting her sweater in her hands. "Could I talk to you for a second?"

"Whatever," Cordy said. "Well, Buffy, I'm not moving, I'm pregnant. So you'll have to go mingle while Anya and I chat."

"We've never really been friends," Anya began.

"Do I know you?" Cordy asked. "Ah yes, the girl who turned Sunnydale into a living hell because she's a demon. Yes, demon person, what can I do for you?"

"I'm Xander's girlfriend," Anya said. "His lover. His true love. I'm not a demon anymore, as you know. I'm human. With human needs."

"How nice for you."

"Anyway, I just wanted you to know…" Anya paused for breath, then let it all out in a whoosh. "I called on the powers of darkness, of vengeance, and asked that you be made to suffer for the way you treated Xander, and this, I think, is what happened… that you're pregnant."

"Oh dear God," Cordy said.

*********

 _"Hey. Hey. It's that witch again."_

 _"Which witch?"_

 _"Very funny. The redheaded witch."_

 _"She needs to learn that we've got better things to do than clean up her and her friends' messes."_

 _"Come on, you know she's a player."_

 _"My ass. Waste of time. Us Powers That Is have too much on our plate already. Have you seen the list of Wolfram & Hart's requests this week?"_

 _"Talk about a waste of time."_

 _"Business is business."_

 _"Anyway, she's casting a spell and we need to work on this."_

 _"Nah, let's skive off today."_

 _"Cone on, you know she's my favorite. Plus, if she's going to become what she's going to become, we need to make sure she knows she's as good as all that."_

 _"When you're right, you're right. What's her beef?"_

 _"Spell to reverse a vengeance pregnancy."_

 _"No, seriously."_

 _"I am serious. Friend got zapped and now she's calling on the lord of this and the goddess of that, and there's lots of smoke."_

 _"Okay let's get it over with. You know the rules… no miscarriage when dealing with a vengeance pregnancy."_

 _"I've never understood that. What's the story with a vengeance miscarriage then?"_

 _"Geez, check the guidebook on your own time, let's just do this thing."_

 _"Well, after this many months, if the baby has to go away, we have to find somewhere to put it."_

 _"That's the problem, naturally."_

 _"Yeah, I've got no clue what to do with this thing."_

 _"What is it, boy or girl?"_

 _"What does it matter?"_

 _"Just answer me, fool."_

 _"Boy."_

 _"Wait, wait, WAIT. I've got it. It's brilliant. There's this thing. It's perfect. Right here, a mystical vampire pregnancy, and it's prophesied."_

 _"Oh you're a genius. That's why they pay you the big bucks."_

 _"Don't I know it. Now let's get it done. One pregnant and pissed off vampire coming right up… one relieved and uncursed human. All in a day's work. Now hold down the fort, would ya? I'm going for a smoke."_

*********

"Feeling better?" Doyle asked Cordy when all the smoke had cleared and the Sunnydale gang was busy cornering Anya in Angel's office.

"Much better, you have no idea."

"What are you going to do to Anya?"

"Nothing, actually," Cordy replied. She shook her head. "Nothing. It was a mistake anyone could make."

"That's very kind of you," Doyle said, relieved.

"Speaking of kind, I wanted to thank you for being the only one…" She raised her voice so Wes, Angel and Gunn could hear, "Who was _kind_ to me while I was a waddling cow beast from hell."

"'Twas nothing, really. You've never been more beautiful." Doyle sensed the tips of his ears begin to redden. Angel and Wes rolled their eyes.

"Really?"

"Absolutely," Doyle answered.

"Listen, Doyle," Cordy said, stepping up close to him and hooking a finger in the belt loop of his jeans. "Now that I'm feeling better, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Doyle's eyes sparkled. He nodded in delight and shock. "Happy to squire the lumbering hell beast anywhere."

"Waddling, not lumbering," Cordy said. Then she leaned in closer. "Be sure to bring lots and lots of condoms." And she strolled away while Doyle was still sputtering. "You're going to have to wear two," she threw back over her shoulder, " _each time_."

"Oh dear God," Doyle said.

**end**


End file.
